


Subliminal

by Alstromerio



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mind Reading, No Angst, Roach is the Best (The Witcher), Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alstromerio/pseuds/Alstromerio
Summary: Jaskier didn’t mean to get cursed at the latest banquet, all right? Although he would not deny that the effects were spectacular. Instead, remembering the last time he had woken up in a strange room with a strange mage, he denied any suggestion that he felt anything other than normal.It took three weeks, some questioning and a few bribes but Jaskier eventually caught up to Geralt, observing along the way that he really could read minds now.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 217
Kudos: 665
Collections: Geraskier Mind Meld





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bamf_babe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamf_babe/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Penny for Your Thoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550397) by [Bamf_babe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamf_babe/pseuds/Bamf_babe). 



> Tumblr has once again caused my mind to fixate until I write something. Particularly on this post:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/likes/blog/bamf-jaskier/614800545207779328  
> OP also wrote a fic for it that I didn't know about until I went to post this and link the prompt so go check out that as well (it's in the inspired by).

Jaskier didn’t mean to get cursed at the latest banquet, all right? Although he would not deny that the effects were spectacular. 

Court mage or not some people needed to work on their aim. It was lucky that Geralt had not attended this gathering otherwise said mage, an unremarkable man named Szymon, would not have gotten off as lightly as he did.

Szymon, not only unremarkable but conscious of it as well, objected to an innocuous comment from a courtier about his manner of dress. After a brief whispered dispute and a longer, louder argument the whole debacle came to a head as Szymon lost his temper.

“We’ll see if you like knowing what everyone really thinks about you!” He bellowed, completely missing the intended target by a foot and hitting the poor innocent bard who sensibly arranged himself out of the way of the conflict.

Alas it seems Jaskiers precautions were for naught as he was hit head on and promptly collapsed into unconsciousness for a day. Szymon was let off any serious repercussions in favour of a lecture on court etiquette, as Stregebor has shown that mages can get away with locking 60 princesses away in towers with no consequences.

Nevertheless, Jaskier woke to see Szymon standing across the room, scribbling away in a leather-bound journal.

“Ah! I see your awake. Now tell me, how do you feel?” He stared Jaskier down, radiating harmless curiosity. “I haven’t tested it on anyone yet, if it’s worked I’ll have to keep him for observation.”

Jaskier did not question that he had managed to hear the last sentence despite Szymon speaking in third person and not moving his lips. In fact, remembering the last time he had woken up in a strange room with a strange mage, he denied absolutely any suggestion that he felt other than normal.

Instead he gathered up his lute, collected his payment and started to track down Geralt.

It took three weeks, some questioning and a few bribes but Jaskier eventually caught up to Geralt in a small village near the border between Temeria and Redania. Along the way careful observation had revealed that Jaskier could really read minds on a long-term basis, although thankfully the ability seemed to be restricted to one person at a time.

So, it was great glee that he bounded into the villages lonely inn and threw himself at the lurking shadow in the corner.

“Geralt! It’s been such a long time; you would not believe what’s been happening!” He grinned as he collapsed onto the bench.

“Jaskier.” Geralt turned his head, face blank, his eyes moving as he looked over Jaskier. _Thank Melitele, it’s been over a month. Is he okay? He looks okay. He’s smiling, is that a new doublet?_

Oh, Jaskier thought, his smile widening just a touch more. Interesting.

“Yes well, I was at that banquet in Kaedwen when the court mage nearly started a riot! Oh don’t look at me like that, Witcher, I’m perfectly fine. Not a problem to be had. Besides it was three weeks ago, it took me that long just to find you, someone told me you’d gone all the way to Toussaint for some inconceivable reason.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt had not in fact, changed expression. Remaining as if he had been carved from granite his mind had instead created a sound that was halfway between what and fuck, with a small hint of choking mixed in for good measure. _Riot? Shit, he’s not okay! It wouldn’t take too long to get to Kaedwen, would it? I could go have a…talk…with that mage. Wait, fuck, I have that contract._

Jaskier stood up from the table. _He’s leaving? Why is he leaving?_

“We should really retire for the night, Geralt. I’m sure you’ll have picked up a contract somewhere along the way and if you plan to leave we should get a good night’s sleep, surely.” Jaskier winked cheerfully. “I should have enough coin left to pay for a room, if you haven’t already?”

“Not yet.” _Wasn’t sure if you were going to be here._ “ People have been dying in the forest.” _Seven people dead in the forest? Maybe after the third you should have stopped going!_

Jaskier quickly turned to avoid laughing in shock. With his back turned to Geralt and his voice just barely under composure he spoke.

“I’ll go get us a room then. You stay here and finish your drink, I’ll come back with the key.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day started with Jaskier being shaken awake at dawn and handed a half stale chunk of bread as he was dragged out of the inn. Stumbling slightly into the stables to watch Geralt saddle up Roach and check over his weapons, he crammed the bread into his mouth and chewed slowly.

_Jaskier’s here, and he’s eating. Good. Will I need a dagger? Better question, when has a dagger ever been a bad idea? Better idea, give Jaskier a dagger. Has he woken up yet? Can’t take him to hunt a monster if he’s asleep. Can’t give him a dagger if he’s asleep either. No, he’s fixing his hair damnit. It looked cute._

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed slightly as his hands froze in his hair. Running them back, he carefully destroyed his previous work as if he’d lost interest and leant back against the frame of the stall. He watched as Roach shifted, avoiding Geralt’s attempts to attach the saddlebags.

_Is he going to walk around like that all day? He looks even better now. Roach stop it. You’re just doing this because you can get away with it, you spoiled mare. Yes, headbutt me, that’s adorable and I can actually get ready. Great, now Jaskier’s laughing at us, this is all your fault Roach. You’re lucky I like you_

Shaking his head slightly as he chuckled Jaskier wandered over to rub Roach’s nose and distract her, laughing harder at Geralt’s subconscious pouting.

“Come on, darling, stay still and let Geralt work. You can mess with him later.” Jaskier dodged as Roach tossed her head in his direction, basking as Geralt mentally laughed. With both of them fully awake, preparation finished and Roach fussed over they exited the stables and moved north out of the town towards the forest.

_Another person went into the forest last night. I mean why not? Seven people have died and a Witcher’s been hired, perfect time to go look for mushrooms. No, no, don’t worry, the middle of the night is perfect. No monster has ever killed someone after dark, that only happens in bright sunlight._

Jaskier hurriedly chocked down his reaction to Geralt’s monologue as he trailed behind, plucking at the strings on his lute while they were still far enough away from the forest to do so. He mulled over his situation as he did so. As eye-opening as it was to be able to hear his dearest friend’s thoughts, it really wasn’t fair not to tell him. Now he just had to find a suitable way to bring it up without getting punched. After the hunt, perhaps. No need for unnecessary distractions right.

He eyed the back of Geralt’s head as they walked; listening as every track was examined, every out of place branch noted, each clue carefully pieced together. It would really be a tragedy if this blessing had to stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is told from Geralt's perspective.

Jaskier had been acting strange ever since he had tracked Geralt to an inn at Piatta, near throwing Geralt into the wall in his enthusiasm as he launched himself onto the bench. Geralt let the words wash over him as he checked Jaskier over, examining for injuries and allowing himself to wonder if he’d seen the green doublet Jaskier was wearing before.

He watched as Jaskier smiled wider and shuffled just a few inches closer before launching into an animated tale of his adventures in their time apart, until a word caught his attention and his mind froze. _Riot?_

Geralt’s eyes involuntarily flickered over Jaskier again, checking and rechecking for wounds, marks, anything that signalled something wrong. Nothing. Absently calculating how long it would take to travel to Kaedwen and cursing the contract he’d already found.

 _He’s leaving? Why is he leaving?_ Following Jaskier as he rose from the bench, Geralt finally focused on Jaskier’s voice as he inquired after contracts and accommodation.

“Not yet.” _Wasn’t sure if you were going to be here._ “ People have been dying in the forest.” Geralt ground out, still half ready to abandon the contract money be damned. _Seven people dead in the forest? Maybe after the third you should have stopped going!_

“I’ll go get us a room then. You stay here and finish your drink, I’ll come back with the key.” Jaskier spoke, voice oddly chocked. Geralt frowned, wishing he could see Jaskier’s face rather than his back moving towards the bar. _Was that laughter?_

* * *

The next morning was no better, worse maybe, as Jaskier trailed behind Geralt into the stables vacantly chewing on a chunk of bread. Geralt attempting to saddle Roach, catching Jaskier leaning against the stall door trying to fix his hair. He watched as Jaskier froze for a second, before pushing his hands backwards. Eyes lingering on the dishevelled strands. _Is he going to walk around like that all day?_

Stumbling backwards slightly as Roach shifted to avoid the saddlebags he stared intently at the tacks fastenings as he heard Jaskier chuckle. _Roach stop it. You’re just doing this because you can get away with it, you spoiled mare. Yes, headbutt me, that’s adorable and I can actually get ready ___

__Laughing harder Jaskier moved forward to distract Roach, rubbing her nose and messing with her mane._ _

__“Come on, darling, stay still and let Geralt work. You can mess with him later.”_ _

Quickly finishing the rest of the preparations Geralt led Roach out of the stable and turned north towards the woods. _It doesn’t usually go that fast. I’m glad Jaskier’s back._

Walking slightly faster as they entered the forest Geralt turned his attention to the ground, and pondered the new information he’d gotten from the innkeeper this morning. _Another person went into the forest last night._ There was a set of tracks moving north-east. _Wolf. Irrelevant._

_I mean why not? Seven people have died and a Witcher’s been hired, perfect time to go look for mushrooms. No, no, don’t worry, the middle of the night is perfect. No monster has ever killed someone after dark, that only happens in bright sunlight._ Jaskier let out a muffled sound from behind. _Choking? No, he’s laughing again. At what?_

The sounds of Jaskier’s lute filled the air as they stepped over ditches and fallen logs. Each note vanishing beneath the ambient noise. _He’s not composing? Usually he’s already working on a tune._

Geralt felt his shoulders relax as Jaskier’s behaviour clicked into place. _He only plays like that when he’s worried about something._ He stopped, standing taller as he surveyed the clearing in front of them. Bodies scattered, each with lacerations and seared flesh marking them. _He’ll tell me soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who wasn't planning on writing two chapters today!


	4. Chapter 4

_Eight bodies. Great, now moonlit strolls can be classed as a potentially lethal pastime._ Jaskier giggled at the last thought, well aware that a clearing filled with corpses was not the most humorous location but unable to stop himself. He caught Geralt turning to look at him and waved him off with a mention of “a thought, nothing more.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully before turning to Roach and rifling through the saddlebags, extracting a potion vial.

“There’s an Archespore here.” He grunted. “Don’t enter the clearing and you should be fine.” He downed the potion before retrieving a fairly stout and straight stick from the ground and wrapping a rag around it to fashion a makeshift torch. _Gods, that tasted like sewage. Maybe normal humans die if they drink Witcher potions because they taste them and give up on life? Tinderbox? Where did I put that?_

“You put the tinderbox in the other bag, Geralt. Underneath the cast-off you call a shirt.” Jaskier called out, moving back a bit further into the trees surrounding the clearing. He idly wondered if climbing one would be safer, before deciding he valued his clothes far too much to subject them to that.

“Hmm.” _How did he…Nevermind. He’ll tell me when he’s ready, pushing won’t help._ Geralt quickly struck a spark and let the torch catch light before moving into the clearing. He held his silver sword in his off-hand and moved forward into the clearing, holding the torch aloft.

Jaskier smiled as he watched the Archespore snap at Geralt, revelling in the trust shown. He settled back against a tree trunk as the Archespore reared back away from the flames, leaves curling as the heat scorched them. He’d tell Geralt on the way back into town, for now there was an overgrown bramble to immolate.

* * *

The Archespore died with very little fanfare, Golden Oriole rendering Geralt resistant to its poison and the torch burning enough of its foliage that the plant buried its head to root in another spot. At that point a well-timed use of Igni caused the whole Archespore to go up in flames.

Watching carefully to ensure that the smouldering remains of the plant didn’t set fire to the rest of the clearing Geralt walked back to Roach and reattached his sword to the saddle. Making his way over to Jaskier, who had sunk down to sit at the base of his tree, Geralt settled next to him to wait for the fire to burn itself out.

Jaskier settled his lute into the proper position before starting to mindlessly strum chords, both men sitting in silence for a few minutes. 

“That banquet in Rakverelin wasn’t without consequence.” Jaskier spoke suddenly, causing Geralt to straighten abruptly form where he had slumped into the tree. _Without consequence? What the hell? Does this mean I can go threaten that mage now?_

“I’d really rather prefer to stay out of his way, if you don’t mind.” Geralt’s head snapped around, eyes widening. _What?_ ”See, in the course of the riot he started he may have, potentially, hit me with a spell that could possibly have given me the ability to read minds?” Jaskier stared into Geralt’s eyes, smile shakily extending past tense and into maniacal.

_…What?_ “What?” Geralt growled.

“Only really works on one person at a time I think. I mean it’s been happening for three weeks and I haven’t noticed otherwise.” Jaskier started to babble, less sure of Geralt’s response now that he was in the situation. “Szymon, that was the mage, hadn’t tried it on anyone else and seemed rather interested in experimenting on me. Situation being what it was, I kind of just left? To find you? I would have told you yesterday but a crowded bar isn’t really the best place and then you had a contract and I didn’t want to distract you so I was going to tell you after? Am? I am telling you after?”

Jaskier fell silent, still staring at Geralt.

“You can read minds?” Jaskier nodded.

“No side effects other than that?” Another nod. Geralt nodded in return.

“We should get Yennefer to check you over and make sure that nothing else is going to happen.” Geralt hauled himself up off the ground and held a hand out to Jaskier. _Think she’s in Tretogor?_

“That’s it? That’s your reaction? Take me Tretogor?” Jaskier gaped as Geralt lifted him off the ground and started pushing him towards Roach.

“Yes.” _Would the mind reading work on everyone?_

“Umm I think so?” Jaskier still looked confused as Geralt moved them towards Piatta.

“Hmmm.” _Interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you my No Angst Guaranteed solution to uncomfortable situations: Trust. Aka "I've known this person for two decades and mind reading isn't a problem now that they've told me."
> 
> For everyone's benefit this story takes place in a nebulous time after the dragon hunt when Yennefer, Jaskier and Geralt all get along but Geralt hasn't found Ciri yet. I'm an uncertain about the fate of Cintra at this time.


	5. Chapter 5

The road into Piatta passed by, either side of the dirt track bracketed by forest slowly merging into wheat fields. Birds were singing, maybe. There could have been clouds in the sky, or possibly not, Jaskier wasn’t paying that much attention to the landscape, instead drifting through the surroundings still half in a daze.

_Is he alright?_

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Jaskier replied automatically, barely registering the words pass his lips. Three seconds later he stopped walking, Geralt moving onwards, leading Roach by the halter. Jaskier’s eyes followed for a time before he huffed his fringe out of his eyes and determinedly marched forward into the town proper.

_Ah. He’s back. Just in time._ Geralt directed them left to the alderman’s house. Leaving Roach tied up outside they walked up to the door and Jaskier knocked, waiting for it open. The door creaked open after the requisite awkward waiting time to reveal a young man, just shorter than Jaskier.

“We’re here for your father.” _Ah shit, not this asshole._ Geralt spoke as if he barely registered the frankly pitiful attempt at a glare the man was giving. Jaskier frowned for a split second before plastering on a friendly smile and turning to the man in the doorway.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before. Jaskier, the bard, and you are?” The man turned his glare onto Jaskier.

“I’m the alderman’s son!”

“Yes, but that doesn’t give me your name, my good sir.” If it wouldn’t tip the man off Jaskier would have rolled his eyes.

“Kacper.” He drew himself up in the doorway as he introduced himself. _How dare he…first Father hired the Witcher and now this._

“Jacper,” Jaskier began, “as intelligent man as you’ve shown to be, you’ll have worked out that my companion has finished the contract. As such we will need to speak to your father about payment, if you’ll let us in.” _Not a chance._ Kacper picked up a pouch from inside the door and tossed it at Geralt’s head, the coins being snatched out of the air before impact.

“Here’s you coin, Witcher, now leave.” _Half anyway. More than he deserves, swindling bastard._ He move to shut the door only to stop as Jaskier moved his foot to the inside of the door jamb, still smiling.

“Unfortunately, Kacen, we really can’t leave without talking to your father.” Jaskier reached over and plucked the coin purse out of Geralt’s hands, giving him a wink before handing it back through the door. “Please excuse us.” He finished before placing one hand on the jamb and the door respectively and levering it open, stepping through shortly after.

“It’s Kacper.” Came a faint admonishment from the man as he watched Jaskier walk past him.

“Really, Kaeden, what a lovely name. Come on Geralt, the alderman’s probably waiting.”

Geralt walked over the doorstop and into the house, causing Kacper to flatten himself against the wall to make room. Now that Jaskier wasn’t focusing on someone else he could feel Geralt’s mind almost vibrate with amusement. _Should’ve known the bastard was going to try something. His father’s better, or maybe desperate, hard to tell sometimes._

* * *

The alderman had indeed been better than his son, and at the same time desperate. A combination that lead to a quick meeting, the full amount of pay and as they left his house the resounding sound of the alderman berating Kacper for daring to insult a Witcher.

Jaskier practically bounced down the road to the inn, already mentally lining up the order of songs for the night’s performance. Reaching the stables he leaned against a post to watch as Geralt began removing Roach’s tack.

_Thanks, Jaskier._ Geralt picked up a brush to starting brushing Roach down as he walked to the other side of the stall. Jaskier looked at where he could just see Geralt’s hair and dramatically threw a hand to his head.

“Oh, so this is how it’s going to go?”

_You mean how it normally goes? Can’t see any reason to change._ Jaskier snorted inelegantly.

“I hope you know your stoic façade has been ruined Geralt, and let me tell you those threats against Szymon were both flattering and concerning. Do you usually threaten people mentally or is he just special?” The stable door shut softly behind them as they moved towards the bar.

_Special, of course. Most people are right in front of me so I get to threaten them in person._

Valiantly holding in his laughter Jaskier turned to the innkeeper to book another room for the night and to strike a deal to perform that evening. Eventually reaching an accord he picked up the key and moved towards the stairs to drop their baggage and to tune his lute where no one would notice the sounds of a wailing cat. Geralt dropped onto the bed after removing his armour, falling back into the pillow.

_A rock pillow, the height of luxury, absolutely worth the coin for this room. I bet you the ale will be only three quarters water as well, you only get the best in Piatta._ Bending over nearly double Jaskier’s fingers slipped off the neck of his lute causing a sharp chord to echo in the room.

“Gods, have mercy Geralt. If this happens in the middle of my performance, I will hit you with this lute.”

Geralt opened an eye to peer at Jaskier before the corner of his mouth twitched up. 

“I will keep quiet while you play.” He conceded before rolling over to sleep until evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to write and I am not the most pleased with it but as a bonus I finally get to add the feral Jaskier tag!


	6. Chapter 6

Jaskier strummed his lute quietly, occasionally looking over to where Geralt slept. He couldn’t hear anything from the man, a sign that his new talent didn’t work on those unconscious? He looked out the window and judging the position of the sun to be low enough moved over to the bed to shake Geralt awake.

“Time to go down, it’s evening now.” He called softly, dodging the now habitual arm thrown at his face, slower than it used to be to allow him to duck. Geralt hauled himself off the bed and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he followed Jaskier to the door and down the stairs. 

_Melitele, why did I sleep? I feel like a harpy tried to nest in my hair and smothered me instead._ They reached the bar floor and he turned to sit at the table he’d occupied the previous night. _Should get some food. Jaskier hasn’t eaten since this morning. Is there time before he sings? Is it good? The last inn put rats in the stew._

“Gods, rats? Really?” Jaskier exclaimed, unable to hide his disgust. Geralt looked at him from where he’d nearly wedged himself into the corner. _Not even close to the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. This one village in Nazair-_

“Oh no, stop! I don’t want to know! Worse than rat stew honestly, my imagination alone is coming up with things that are completely unpalatable.” The innkeeper’s daughter started over to their table, weaving around the mostly empty chairs. _Like what? Sheep eyeballs? Cow lung? No wait, I got it, the one thing you can’t stand. Overcooked rabbit._

“Yes, yes, very funny. Hello, my dear. Ale and food for both of us please, whatever you have.” He smiled at the girl cheerfully, passing over her bemused expression. _I’m not-_ Jaskier turned to face Geralt. “Do not even attempt to tell me you aren’t hungry Geralt, you’re eating.”

“He didn’t…” The girl trailed off uncertainly as Jaskier faced back towards her.

“Oh no, Geralt here is just incredibly easy to read. An open book.” Jaskier clapped a hand onto Geralt’s shoulder, holding in a wince at the sting in his palm.

“Hmmm.” _Cold hands._

“Alright. Food it is then.” The girl turned and walked away a touch quicker that she had approached, throwing a look over her shoulder as she did.

“That was easier than usual.” Geralt rumbled. _You normally work up to unnerving people that much._

“I had a little help this time.” Jaskier winked. “Time to eat and then time to sing, we should get a decent amount of coin with a little luck.”

* * *

The two men staggered upstairs later that evening, sober but exhausted. 

_Three times! Who the hell…_

“I know, I mean I like the song, I wrote it for pity’s sake!” Jaskier cried.

“Who requests the same song three times!” Geralt muttered as he hauled Jaskier over a broken floorboard.

“An asshole.” Was spoken with great authority as they both tipped onto the bed. Pillows and blankets were tugged around as they settled in for the night.

_Singing was great though._

“Thanks.” Jaskier managed before his mind fixated on his pillow, too tired to take in anything else as he fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning Jaskier rose considerably later to find Geralt repacking their bags for travel rather than hunting. A plate lay on top of the lockbox at the end of the bed, a small portion of bread and an apple serving as breakfast.

“We can head west to Drakenborg through the forest and then on Tretogor, should take about three days.” _We’ll avoid Rinde as well. No need to see if they remember us._

“That would be a bad idea.” Jaskier commented, watching Geralt organise potions at the bottom of the saddlebag and packing clothes around the delicate vials.

_What’s he mean? Drakenborg is far better than Rinde?_

“No, it’s not?” Geralt slowly started packing rations into the top of the bag. _Does he want to go through Rinde? We’d have to follow the Pontar, so there would be fish._

“What, no, I thought going through Rinde would be a bad idea. Why would lack of fish be an issue?” Jaskier stood up from the bed and started pulling on his clothes, throwing Geralt a look of confusion and he stopped packing.

“Ah, I-“ Geralt focused intently as his hands resumed fiddling with the saddlebags. _I forgot. That you could hear about Rinde._

Jaskier blinked before throwing his arms wide in a dramatic portrayal of relief.

“So we’re not going through Rinde! Thank the gods! Let me tell you that would have been an unpleasant experience for us all. Drakenborg it is.” Picking up his lute he followed Geralt down to the stables, hopping over the broken floorboard from the night before. _We should tell the-_

“Oh, we absolutely shouldn’t, my dear. Not only does the innkeeper know, about fifteen people have told him. He was thinking about it very loudly last night, the last time someone mentioned it. He could teach you some new swearwords, come to think of it.” Geralt hummed as he finished saddling Roach.

_He…my dear?...He’s never…_ Jaskier froze.

“I’m sorry! It slipped out, I won’t say it again!” He babbled, before Geralt slipped around Roach’s side to stand in front of him.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mind.” _What else does he call me? Should I call him something? What though? Jaskier…Jas…Buttercup…_

“I like Jas!” Jaskier’s cheeks were starting to feel uncomfortably warm. “You can call me that. If you want, of course.”

“Hmmm.” Geralt took Roach’s halter and led her onto the westward road out of Piatta. _Jas it is._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is told from Geralt's perspective.

The Archespore had died quickly, a final burst of Igni burning the remains of the plant as it tried to root elsewhere. Jaskier had stayed behind the treeline, out of sight and range of the fight, and despite the Archespore managing to scratch Geralt a few times the poison hadn’t been effective.

A quick study of the surroundings led Geralt to decide that the Archespore was too far away to set fire to the forest, although he still kept an eye out as he backed away towards Roach to secure his sword. Watching the fire burn itself out he sat next to Jaskier as the man pulled his lute into a better position and started to strum disconnected chords.

_This is nice. If there weren’t corpses I’d suggest we stay here._

“That banquet in Rakverelin wasn’t without consequence.” Geralt bolted upright suddenly from his slump, barely resisting the urge to run his hands over Jaskier.

 _Without consequence? What the hell? Does this mean I can go threaten that mage now?_

“I’d really rather prefer to stay out of his way, if you don’t mind.” Geralt’s eyes widened, head automatically turning to find Jaskier’s gaze, lingering as Jaskier’s smile approached unhinged.

”See, in the course of the riot he started he may have, potentially, hit me with a spell that could possibly have given me the ability to read minds?”

“What?” Geralt growled. _…What?_ Jaskier started to babble and Geralt tried to keep up, mulling over the words as Jaskier fell silent.

“You can read minds?” Geralt waited as Jaskier nodded.

“No side effects other than that?” Another nod. 

“We should get Yennefer to check you over and make sure that nothing else is going to happen.” _Think she’s in Tretogor?_ Geralt stood up, holding a hand out to Jaskier and lifting him off the ground.

That’s it? That’s your reaction? Take me Tretogor?”

“Yes.” Geralt stated to lead Jaskier towards the road. Would the mind reading work on everyone?

“Umm I think so?”

_Interesting._

* * *

Silence was never something Geralt was used to. The chattering of crowds, footsteps echoing, carts clattering through the streets was present in every town. Even outside civilisation the sounds of birds mixed with the rustling of wildlife through scrub and the creaking of trees in the wind.

The addition of Jaskier in his life had added another layer into the background noise of Geralt’s life, an ever-present source of lute music and gossip, and the absence of which caused an unsettling feeling in Geralt. A creeping feeling down the back of his neck and a tension in his forearms. 

_Is he alright?_

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” A few seconds later Geralt heard a huff and watched a Jaskier marched past him into the town, relief running through him in a brief moment of weightlessness. _Ah. He’s back. Just in time._

“The alderman’s is to the left, Jaskier.” _Was he really that worried?_ Hitching Roach to the fence outside the house Jaskier knocked on the door leaving the two to wait outside awkwardly for the door to creak open.

 _Ah shit, not this asshole._ “We’re here for your father.” The alderman’s son stood in the doorway almost pouting at Geralt. _What was his name? K…Ke?...No, Ka?...Fuck it, he was a dick anyway._

“I’m the alderman’s son!” Geralt focused again as the aforementioned dick turned his glare on Jaskier.

“Yes, but that doesn’t give me your name, my good sir.”

“Kacper.” _Is he trying to look taller? He looks like he’s trying to pass a brick._

Geralt caught the coin purse tossed at his head, weighing it in his hand. _Light. Not enough coin._ Turning his gaze towards the doorway he watched Jaskier wedge his foot in the door and snatch the coin purse back out of his hands.

“Unfortunately, Kacen, we really can’t leave without talking to your father. Please excuse us.” Jaskier levered the door open and stepped through. Pushing his way past and once again calling the alderman’s son by the wrong name he stepped into the hallway.

“Come on Geralt, the alderman’s probably waiting.”

* * *

The meeting with the alderman had been brief and as they both left Geralt heard the beginning strains of what sounded like a long lecture on manners. They entered the stables and Jaskier almost flounced over to lean against a post looking smug as he watched Geralt unpack Roach.

Picking up a brush Geralt deliberated for a moment, thinking over how he wanted to approach the next conversation. He walked over to the other side of the stall to brush Roach down. _Thanks, Jaskier._ He heard a slight clapping noise and peeked over Roach’s back to see Jaskier dramatically swooning back into a pillar with a hand thrown to his head.

“Oh, so this is how it’s going to go?”

_You mean how it normally goes? Can’t see any reason to change._

“I hope you know your stoic façade has been ruined Geralt, and let me tell you those threats against Szymon were both flattering and concerning. Do you usually threaten people mentally or is he just special?” 

_Special, of course. Most people are right in front of me so I get to threaten them in person._ As they reached the bar Jaskier giggled behind clenched teeth as he searched for the innkeeper, arranging a performance that evening and picking up a key for the room.

Geralt stripped off his armour and slumped back into the pillow. _A rock pillow, the height of luxury, absolutely worth the coin for this room. I bet you the ale will be only three quarters water as well, you only get the best in Piatta._

“Gods, have mercy Geralt. If this happens in the middle of my performance, I will hit you with this lute.” Geralt looked at Jaskier bent over the neck of his lute, near chocking with laughter. 

“I will keep quiet while you play.” _It would be a shame to interrupt._

* * *

“Time to go down, it’s evening now.” _Fuck._ Geralt threw an arm at Jaskier, just slow enough to allow him to duck and soft enough that it wouldn’t hurt. _Melitele, why did I sleep? I feel like a harpy tried to nest in my hair and smothered me instead._

He turned to look for the table he sat at last night and started to edge himself into the corner, hoping to fall straight back asleep despite the noise of the crowd.

_Should get some food. Jaskier hasn’t eaten since this morning. Is there time before he sings? Is it good? The last inn put rats in the stew._

“Gods, rats? Really?”

_Not even close to the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. This one village in Nazair-_

“Oh no, stop! I don’t want to know! Worse than rat stew honestly, my imagination alone is coming up with things that are completely unpalatable.” Geralt tracked the innkeeper’s daughter weaving between tables towards them before focusing back on Jaskier. _Like what? Sheep eyeballs? Cow lung? No wait, I got it, the one thing you can’t stand. Overcooked rabbit._

Geralt waited as Jaskier ordered food for them both, only truly coming back to the conversation when Jaskier clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hmmm.” _Cold hands._

“Alright. Food it is then.” The girl turned, looking over her shoulder as she went.

The food arrived quickly after that, a potato soup made with sour rye, terrible but nowhere near as bad as what Geralt had eaten in Nazair. Food eaten Geralt leaned back into the wall as Jaskier made a show of tuning his lute and stood to wander through the tables, occasionally asking the patrons for requests.

“Fishmonger’s Daughter!” A small man called out with enthusiasm, applauding as Jaskier played the opening chords. _At least that song is out the way in early evening._

* * *

Geralt woke the next morning and made his way downstairs, picking up some bread and apples to eat, setting a plate on the lock box for Jaskier. As Jaskier stirred he picked up the saddlebags and started to rearrange the contents to make travel easier, moving potions downwards and wrapping clothes around them, making space for food on top to make it easier to access.

“We can head west to Drakenborg through the forest and then on Tretogor, should take about three days.” _We’ll avoid Rinde as well. No need to see if they remember us._

“That would be a bad idea.”. _What’s he mean? Drakenborg is far better than Rinde?_ Geralt slowed down his movements as he tried to remember if Jaskier had any problem with Drakenborg. _Is there someone he needs to avoid?_

“No, it’s not?” _Does he want to go through Rinde? We’d have to follow the Pontar, so there would be fish._

“What, no, I thought going through Rinde would be a bad idea. Why would lack of fish be an issue?” 

“Ah, I-“. _I forgot. That you could hear about Rinde._ Jaskier threw his arms outwards dramatically, launching into a passionate speech as they made their way out of the room. The chatter continuing as they hopped over the broken floorboard and entered the stables. Geralt starting to saddle Roach just as Jaskier’s words caught his attention

 _He…my dear?...He’s never…_ Jaskier stopped for a moment before starting to babble again, carrying on as Geralt moved to stand in front of him.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mind.” _What else does he call me? Should I call him something? What though? Jaskier…Jas…Buttercup…_

“I like Jas! You can call me that. If you want, of course.” Jaskier blurted out, stopping Geralt’s thoughts from spiralling further as they moved onto the road.

“Hmmm.” _Jas it is._


	8. Chapter 8

Drakenborg was a fortress, the square keep had been built to stop an invasion from the east spreading further into Redania with the agricultural trade routes through the country providing easy connections between major cities. A small market operated outside the gates taking advantage of the routes converging and funnelling merchants towards Tretogor.

Rather than gamble on the availability of rooms Geralt had stopped them in the woods to the south of the road, leaving Jaskier to desperately find a rhyme for Archespore as he set up camp.

“Are you sure I can’t just say it was an Echinopsae? The rhyming scheme fits and everybody thinks they’re the same thing anyway.”

“They’re different.” Geralt growled. _One of them is an acid-spitting tulip, and the other is a hedgehog that eats you. How can people tell a hundred different types of grass apart and still not see the spiky rat trying to claw their face off?_

“I think you’ve got it there, my dear. Most people don’t stick around to see their face clawed up.”

“No, they just wander into swamps and get eaten by kikimores.” _What’s useful in a swamp anyway? Why would you even go there?_

“A conundrum indeed.” Jaskier pushed his lute until it rested on his back, watching as Geralt kicked debris back from around the campfire. “Perhaps it’s the atmosphere.”

“Shitty atmosphere.” Finally satisfied that stray sparks would not accidentally set the clearing alight Geralt quickly lit the fire and sat down next to Jaskier. _The nights have been warm the last two days, sleeping should be fine. Will Jas be alright? He tends to run cold at night, I have an extra blanket in the bag. His fingers aren’t stiff, so he’s all right for now._

“I’ll be fine, darling.” Jaskier smiled, reaching out to lightly kick Geralt in the ankle. “If we get cold we can always go get it later.”

“Hmmm” _Easier to plan for it now than get up in the middle of the night and freeze finding it._

“That sounds far too much like responsible thinking, and you know I don’t go in for that.”

“That explains why you follow me around.” Geralt leans into Jaskier to shove him back a little.

“As far as I’m concerned that’s the most responsible decision I’ve ever made.” Jaskier said happily as he fell back onto the ground.

_Ridiculous. Where’s the blanket? It’s getting dark, go to sleep._

Jaskier burst out laughing as Geralt got up to rifle through the bags, rolling onto his bedroll waiting for Geralt to drop the blanket onto him.

* * *

Fertiliser was spread in a layer over the crops, livestock roamed around in open spaces and hanging over it all grey clouds filled the sky. Geralt and Jaskier had left camp early in the morning following the road to Tretegor with the merchants, watching as one by one they peeled off to head towards Novigrad.

“I don’t suppose while we’re this close, you’d like to visit Oxenfurt? We’re nearly there already.” Jaskier looked longingly down one of the roads as if it would suddenly teleport him past Tretogor.

“We can.” Geralt’s thoughts took on an absentminded tone. _I don’t think there are any festivals scheduled, so it wouldn’t be that loud. We met up earlier than usual, and we’ll miss the summer solstice._

“We don’t have to go, if you’ll find it too loud, darling, and don’t think you’ll be able to hide it from me like you usually do when we visit.” Jaskier pinned Geralt with a mock irritated stare. “I have inside information now.”

“I want to, Jas.” Geralt looked back down the road as another merchant approached from behind. _You like it there, so I want to._

“Thank you, my dear.” Jaskier smiled as they moved to the side of the road, the merchant trundling past. Beyond the clattering of the wheels turning he could just make out a faint acknowledgement from Geralt.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it this chapter is short but it is hot, I am tired and I haven't updated in a while. I'd rather give you this than try and write more and fail.

“Opulence, thy name is Yennefer.” Jaskier proclaimed, spreading his arms wide as he walked into the largest house in Tretegor. The house itself was not that big, the city acting more as a thoroughfare for merchants on their way to Novigrad but it was bigger than an inn and had more cushions than it knew what to do with.

“If you are used to the lesser things it may seem that way, bard. How is the road? It’s done wonders to your complexion.” Yennefer swept into the foyer, her dress moving around her ankles as the light fabric caught the air.

“I don’t look a day over twenty-five and you know it, witch. We have a problem.”

“When do you not?” Yennefer’s eyes flicked across them both and Jaskier kept his mind firmly on Geralt’s thoughts. “What did you do this time? Find another djinn?”  


Geralt shook his head, carefully setting down their bags on the floor as he moved further into the room.

“A mage cursed Jaskier. He can hear thoughts, although only one person at a time. We need to know if there are any side effects.” _And a portal to Kaedwen so I can ruin the life of that mage._

“We don’t need a portal, walking to Kaedwen will do just fine if we’re going to threaten him. Don’t worry about the mind reading, Yennefer. Geralt’s thoughts are fascinating, I wouldn’t want to miss one.” Jaskier winked at Yennefer, ignoring Geralt grumbling about travel speed.

“As if I’d worry about that, bard. Now come tell me everything about the idiot who cursed you. Geralt, we’ll be a while, you can find the bath can’t you.” Yennefer tossed over her shoulder as she herded Jaskier through a side door.

“Yes.” _Try not to kill each other, the blood will never come out of the floor._

“Wonderful to hear your concern, dear. We’ll find you afterwards.

* * *

Jaskier sat perched on a stool eyeing the strange implements arrayed on the table to the side.

“You’re not going to use that are you?” He asked pointing at a metal tool that looked more suitable for use on cattle than a person.

“Maybe.” Yennefer absently answered as she leafed through a book, occasionally stopping on a page before adding a new vial of potions to the growing collection in front of her. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

A short glance back assured Jaskier that he was rather more unadventurous than he previously thought, and that honestly Yennefer was still the most terrifying person he’d met.

“Now there are only a small number of side effects that we can test for. Most experimental mages are concerned with making their spell work and not that the subject is bleeding from the ears. I can make sure nothing is going to kill you but if something else manifests you’re going to have find me again.” The collection of vials was placed in front of Jaskier. “Now start drinking.”


End file.
